


The Delicate Art of Navigating Asteroid Fields, Sibling Relationships, and Republic Law Enforcement

by galacticfieldtrip



Series: The Ardania Legacy [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Gen, everyone thinks ki is the responsible one but they're wrong, sibling shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:45:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11454360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticfieldtrip/pseuds/galacticfieldtrip
Summary: It was Ki on the holo. “This a bad time?” she asked. Kal imagined how things must seem from her end: him, soaked in sweat, probably looking half-mad with stress, automated warnings blaring from all corners, and the very distinct sounds of a space battle.“Nah, not a bad time at all. Just running from some pirates into an asteroid field.”Kianto’s blue-washed figure leaned against a wall and smirked. “So, just a regular Primeday for you, then.”“Pretty much yeah."





	1. Near-Death Experiences and Other Exciting Life Events

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Ki might be in trouble, Kal is definitely in trouble, and Risha contemplates murder.

If asked how he thought he might die, Captain Manei likely would respond with an answer involving one game of sabaac, two twi’lek dancers, and three bottles of Corellian whiskey.

If the questioner had the dubious honor of knowing him well, he might respond with a more serious answer: a heist gone wrong, bounty hunters catching up to him, a run-in with pirates or any of the other myriad misfortunes that can befall a smuggler.

He might also put on a show of having never thought about his inevitable demise, but it would be only that: a show. Kaldes had a very keen awareness of his own mortality, a side effect of having a smuggler for a father, a Sith for a mother, and a sister who was so bad at keeping herself out of trouble that she had given up trying by the time she was a teenager.

The fact was, he oscillated violently between accepting his eventual death with grace and railing against it with every fiber of his being. At the moment, he was definitely leaning toward the latter.

“This is not how I was planning on dying!” An explosion rocked the freighter Kal was piloting, and several alarms blared, reporting damage from…everywhere, apparently.

The shipboard computer piped up. “Lower deck compromised. Executing emergency shielding protocols,” it reported. The incongruity of the cool, mechanical voice only added to the chaos in the cockpit. Kal grimaced and opened a comm line to the engine room.

“Risha, I need more power to the rear shields, now!”

Risha’s voice echoed back to him, tinny and irritated. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, _Captain_. Try actually dodging the bolts from now on, and I’ll see what I can do.” Another tremor ran through the ship, prompting a string of vicious curses from Risha’s end until the line cut out.

“They’re gaining on us!” That was Corso in the copilot’s chair.

“No shit,” muttered Kal. Then, louder: “Corso if we die out here, I want you to know two things, okay?”

“Uh, maybe you should work on flyin’ the ship, Captain?”

“No, no, no. This is important!” Kal executed a barrel roll, and the bolt from the ship behind them grazed the starboard engine instead of hitting the body of the ship. He counted it as a win, even as Risha opened a line just to insult his parentage in very colorful Huttese. Bowdaar chuffed in amusement from the main battery, and Kal frowned. “Aren’t you two supposed to be working? Me ‘n’ Corso are trying to have a moment here.” He swerved into another loop to dodge the EMP torpedoes their pursuers had just launched. Bowdaar launched a salvo of his own, neatly exploding the missiles into waves of blueish purple.

“More like the Captain’s tryna have a moment. I’m just the poor soul stuck in the cockpit with him,” said Corso.

“Just let him get it out, Riggs,” said Risha. “He’ll be insufferable if he doesn’t.”

“Thank you, Risha.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

Kal ignored this. “Like I said: two things. First, if I die, you’re not getting the ship. Risha is.” There was a triumphant _“Ha!_ ” from the engine room’s line.

“But what if she dies too?” asked Corso. His previous protests in favor of flying over talking were obviously forgotten in light of this unfortunate news.

Kal grinned and dove behind their attackers, giving Bowdaar time to send off a hail of bolts. “Already plotting my heir’s death? I’m so proud.” Before Corso could formulate a response, Kal said, “Anyway, if Risha dies, Ki gets the ship.”

“Your sister? But she's a bounty hunter—she's already got a ship! What’s she need another one for?”

“It’s not about _need_ , Corso, it’s about—”

Risha cut in. “Not to ruin the moment, boys, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re heading straight for an asteroid field. Might want to adjust course.”

“Oh, yeah. That. It’s deliberate, don’t worry, Rish.”

Kal was almost certain that Risha’s spirit was going to depart from her body by virtue of the pure force of her annoyance and disapproval. He quickly changed the subject. “The second thing, Corso, the second thing. When we met on Ord Mantell, I was doing my damnedest to get into your pants. I just thought you should know.”

“Uh. I— okay.” A quiet beeping, nearly lost in the cacophony of alarms, drew Corso’s attention. With some relief, he transferred the notification to Kal. “Message comin’ through, Captain.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s from our new friends back there.” Said friends let loose another wave of bolts that Kal dodged almost absentmindedly while answering the call.

It was Ki. “This a bad time?” she asked, in lieu of a greeting. Kal imagined how things must seem from her end: him, soaked in sweat, probably looking half-mad with stress, automated warnings blaring from all corners, and the very distinct sounds of a space battle.

“Nah, not a bad time at all. Just running from some pirates into an asteroid field.”

Kianto’s blue-washed figure leaned against a wall and smirked. “So, just a regular Primeday for you, then.”

“Pretty much yeah. You just calling to chat or what?” A sensor blared on the console. They’d reached the outer edges of the asteroid field.

“Ri-ight.” Ki drew the word out into two syllables, and Kal whipped his head around to properly look at her holographic face. Twins or not, he was still the older of the two, and she was still his little sister. He could practically smell the trouble on her.

“Dammit Kianto, what’d you do this time?”

Ki cocked her head as the freighter shuddered again. “Listen, it sounds like you’re a bit busy. Call me back when you get the chance.” The holograph flickered off and Kal was just about to get back on the line and demand some answers when he heard footsteps behind him. Risha.

“The engines are more or less stable, and the shields have as much power as we can spare,” she said, and pointed at Corso. “Get to the gunnery. It looks like we’ll be blasting our way out of this problem.” Corso meekly left and slid down the ladder to the second gun. Risha took up the copilot’s controls, all business once again, although she did slide a glance Kal’s way. “I hope you’re up to this.”

He grimaced. “Yeah, me too.”

The shots from the other ship petered off as they ventured further into the asteroid field, their pursuers apparently unwilling to follow them. Kal breathed a sigh of relief. Bowdaar and Corso were both handy on the guns, and Risha was the best copilot he could ask for, with the exception of his sister or father. Still, he settled into his seat. This would be a tense few hours of flying.


	2. Kaldes and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate chapter title: I Steal Yet Another Plot Point From the Original Trilogy

A small freighter burst out of the asteroid field just past Ord Carida in an explosion of rubble and space dust. It executed an entirely unnecessary loop, as if in victory, then stabilized and drifted toward the contingent of Republic ships orbiting the planet.

Within the freighter, Kal released the controls with a sigh of relief and absently flexed his stiff fingers as Risha stretched beside him. He glanced out the transparisteel at the military depot, body tensing at the military presence. Despite the ache in his hands from hours of manual precision flying, they twitched back toward the controls.

But he blew out a breath and deliberately relaxed his muscles. They were employing him, now, and he had the documents to prove it. No need to run at the first sight of a naval officer.

A clatter of boots on the durasteel flooring alerted them to Corso’s arrival, and Kal spun his seat around to get a better look at him.

“Glad that’s over with!” Irrepressible, as always. Kal couldn’t help a small smile. Bowdaar entered then as well, eating…something, and roared a greeting.

“That shooting wasn’t half-bad, Corso,” said Kal. “Guess you aren’t all talk after all.” Beside him, Bowdaar huffed through a mouthful of food. “You too, buddy. But we already knew you were useful, eh?”

Corso looked torn between pride and indignation as Bowdaar let out an amused chuff. It wasn’t an uncommon look for him since joining the crew, and Kal had to stifle a grin at the familiarity of it all.

Risha stood, complaining of claustrophobia, and the others agreed, beginning a procession out to the common room.

As Kal stood to follow the other three off of the bridge, a sensor shrieked a warning. Half a second later, the ship was buffeted once more before steadying into a regular shudder. Everyone caught themselves on the walls and stumbled back into the cockpit. Kal didn’t even have to look at the dashboard’s readout; he knew that feeling.

“Tractor beam. Fantastic.”

Risha was back in the seat beside him. “Is there any way we can break out of it?”

“Probably not.” Kal sighed and glanced at the culprit ship’s credentials, before turning back to—

Wait, _what_?

He turned back around and squinted at the screen again, just to be sure, and _—_ yeah. He was definitely reading it right.

“They’re Republic.”

Corso leaned over his shoulder to stare at the text crawl. A couple of his dreadlocks hit Kal in the face, who irritably swatted them out of the way. The younger man obligingly moved away, his eyes still glued to the screen. “Did I miss somethin’?” he asked, tilting his head toward Kal. “I thought they were payin’ you?”

Risha snorted. “Typical. You try to go legit, and of course it backfires.”

“But I haven’t done anything wrong!” Kal protested. All three of his companions turned to stare at him, and he hastily added, “Lately! I haven’t done anything wrong _lately_.”

“Maybe they finally found out about those weapons you sold from the Balmorran project?” Risha didn’t sound very convinced by her own reasoning, and Kal couldn’t help but agree. This was about something bigger than a few missiles. He drummed his fingers on the dashboard, considering the situation while his ship approached the Republic cruiser.

“Well,” said Corso, after a few seconds of tense silence, “They didn’t shoot us right away, so at least they don’t want us dead, right?”

Kal grimaced. _Wanted alive_ didn’t necessarily indicate a bright future. He’d rather not be wanted by the Republic at all, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. So, he forced a smile to his face and a cheerfulness to his voice and said, “Guess we’ll be playing this one by ear, guys. Better to come quietly in this case, yeah?” He reclined back in his seat and propped his feet up on the center console, the very picture of relaxation.

Corso and Bowdaar still looked uneasy, but hey, he wasn’t a miracle worker. At least they took the hint and retreated to the common room. A few minutes later he heard the tell-tale sounds of a game of dejarik being played.

He and Risha lingered in the cockpit, watching the Republic ship grow ever closer.

~:~

The ship was set down in the cruiser’s hangar bay with a dull _thud_ , and Kal spared a wince for the treatment of his most prized possession before getting back to the job at hand. He and Risha had taken the last few minutes to hide away the, ah, _less than legal_ items still floating around the ship in case any officers got twitchy. Corso and Bowdaar pitched in, throwing their respective weapons with definitely-not-standard and probably-not-legal modifications into one of the smuggling compartments. They joined some containers of spice, a few cases of unregistered blasters, and some very valuable blueprints, along with sundry other items that Kal had either stolen or been given as payment.

As the airlock hissed open, Risha and Corso hastily slid the compartment shut again. A few seconds later, a stern-looking Republic official marched into the room, flanked by two burly military boys. The crew straightened quickly, and tried _—_ with varying degrees of success _—_ to look like they weren’t just hiding smuggled items.

The woman regarded them coolly, and Kal got the impression that she wasn’t fooled a bit, but thankfully, she didn’t push the issue. Instead, she pointed at him and asked, “Are you Kaldes Manei?”

Kal broke out his sunniest smile. “Yes ma’am, that’s me. Loyal, law-abiding Republic citizen!”

Risha sighed.

The official remained impassive as he showed her his identification. She studied it so intently and for so long that he began to panic, thinking that perhaps he’d given her one of his false IDs on accident _—_ it wouldn’t be the first time. Finally, though, she motioned to him, and said, “Follow me, then.”

“Uh,” said Corso.

Her hawk-like eyes lasered in on him, and the Mantellian took half a step back. “Someone else will be along for you three later.” She nodded at the two marines, and they took up positions by the common room’s entrance as she and Kal exited the ship.

The hangar the freighter had been unceremoniously dropped into was as nondescript as they came. Kal eyed the bustle ubiquitous to all military ships and instinctively edged away from a troupe of ensigns making their rounds.

The woman beside him glanced at his side-step and seemed to bristle at his distaste. As if it would be completely out of the realm of possibility that he might not want to be here. Any person with two brain cells to rub together knew he was— _used to be_ —a smuggler. It was hardly out of the ordinary for him to be wary of military installations.

They passed through twisting, identical corridors, walking briskly until they reached a small, unoccupied dead-end. For a moment, Kal was seized with conviction that this woman was going to unholster her pistol and shoot him between the eyes. She certainly looked grim enough for it, he thought.

Instead of shooting him, she reached past him to press at a door panel he hadn’t noticed earlier. A nice change of pace, people not trying to kill him. They entered the room together and she turned to him, speaking for the first time since they’d disembarked his ship.

“Mr. Manei—”

“Captain.”

“Pardon?”

“It’s _Captain_ Manei,” said Kal. “Y’know, because I _captain_ a ship?”

The woman paused. Based on the bars on her uniform, Kal guessed she wasn’t so used to backtalk. Still, she rallied well, for a military woman. “ _Captain_ Manei. I leave you in the capable hands of Agent Shan, here.” She gestured toward a man who seemed to have melted out of the woodwork.

A very _handsome_ man.

Shit.

Shan, oblivious to Kal’s minor crisis, reached out a hand for him to shake. Kal took it unthinkingly. “ _Agent_ Shan?” he asked.

The other man nodded. “SIS,” he confirmed. “We need to ask you some questions.”

Kal, still a bit dazed, just said, “Well, fuck.”

Shan grinned.

~:~

If there was one thing Kaldes could do, it was play a role. Everyone he met expected a certain narrative from him, and this agent across from him was no exception. He’d just have to tread a little more carefully than usual and be a little more nuanced, was all. If nothing else, it could be fun to try to outfox an SIS agent.

He slouched in his seat and mentally rifled through a couple versions of himself, some more true than others. Shan obviously wasn’t buying the ‘heroic patriotic privateer who definitely wasn’t forced into this’ role. He also was probably sharp enough to dismiss an affectation of greed-driven low-lifery.

Fuck. He was gonna have to be almost honest, wasn’t he?

Kal sighed and focused on the man across from him, who seemed to be…amused? _Stars_ , but he hated spies. Worse than the damn Jedi when it came to mind games.

Shan cocked his head at Kal, and asked, “Ever thought about a career with the SIS?” There was more than a hint of laughter in his voice.

Kal scowled at him. “The risk-to-reward ratio’s too high for me, thanks. Besides, gotta keep up the family tradition, right?”

Shan squinted at him. “Right. Your dad was a…captain…too.”

“Grew up into it,” Kal agreed.

“Any other family?” The agent made a show of checking the datapad in front of him. Kal nearly froze.

_Fuck fuck fuckfuckfuck._ Was this about _Nulise_ of all people?

Shan raised an eyebrow at him, and Kal realized he’d gone quiet for too long. He tried deflect away from the topic of his mother. “Well, there’s just my little sister, really. Kianto. I, uh, haven’t seen her in a while, though.” A few weeks was a while, right?

The man across from him seemed surprised, though he hid it well. “Yeah. What’s she like?”

Something uneasy was shifting in the back of Kal’s mind, a little voice telling him to tread carefully.

He bit back his stock reply. _Well she’s a pain in my ass, but she’s my little sister. And don’t let her feed you any of that ‘we’re twins’ banthashit. I came first, I’m older._

Instead, he said, “We’re not really close. Like I said, we haven’t talked in a while.” _Liar._

“Did you know she’s been adopted by Mandalore?”

“First I’ve heard of it.”

“Right.” Shan looked unconvinced. “You may not be close, but still. Mind telling me about her?”

Kal breathed in deeply through his nose and tried to push back his budding concern. _Distance. Step back a bit._ “She’s a great shot. Got a good head for mechanics. Never could stay outta trouble when we were kids.” He fought to keep the fondness out of his voice. _She’d spend hours at the shooting range because Dad and I got hurt once on a job. Said if we couldn’t protect ourselves then she’d have to do it. She’d always hum when she worked on the ship, loved being in the engine room. Always got into fights with people twice as big as her over stupid shit. I got to be a pretty good hand with kolto and stitches because she could never leave well enough alone—_

Shan was looking at him expectantly, but when Kal didn’t continue, he said. “I guess you haven’t heard the Chancellor’s speech, then.” He tapped at his ‘pad and slid it around to Kal. Janarus’ voice sounded out from the small speakers, in the middle of a soundbite.

“ _—this bounty hunter will, of course, be brought to justice for her heinous crimes against our Republic. Kianto Manei’s blatant disregard for moral decency will not be tolerated, and I assure all of you that all lawkeeping agencies are actively searching for her as we speak—_ ”

He continued on for another few minutes, and Kal sat frozen in his cold seat as the view switched to a newsroom where perfect people in perfectly pressed clothes recited a list of crimes. Crimes Kianto had supposedly committed.

He thought frantically back to their all-too-brief call a few hours earlier. Had she seemed worse for wear? On edge? Why had he been so caught up in his own shit that he hadn’t asked her what was going on? _Stupid, stupid, stupid._

Shan was staring at him, hand hovering between them as if trying to decide whether to offer comfort or not. Kal just dropped his head into his hands.

Sounded like a sibling discussion was in order.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> consistent tone? good pacing? i don't know her  
> this was rough to write and i'm still not entirely satisfied with it, but i hope yall still enjoyed it


End file.
